


Character study-Eleanor

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:10:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has learned how to accommodate them, these men who are so far from where she stands. They come to her with rough hands and rough faces. They speak coarsely. She can see the sea in their eyes; she can see death there as well. She knows she cannot afford to be weak before them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Character study-Eleanor

Her job is often a thankless one. They come to her everyday with their problems and their concerns and their desires. She has learned how to accommodate them, these men who are so far from where she stands. They come to her with rough hands and rough faces. They speak coarsely. She can see the sea in their eyes; she can see death there as well. She knows she cannot afford to be weak before them. Always before them. All of Nassau sees her, even when no one is looking. Each expression, each gesture she makes. They watch and they wait for her weakness. She will not give it to them. Not ever.

She perseveres. 

Charles has rough hands and a rough face. He speaks coarsely. But his rough hands make her tremble under his touch. His rough face is good for kissing. His speech can grow soft around her. It is hard for her to separate him from the others. As hard as it is—sometimes—to see him as one of them. Always the dance. It’s a dangerous dance, one that keeps her on her toes. She knows if she falls into him and into the love he offers she might drown. She knows if she falls the other way, she might drown.

She balances.

Sometimes she dreams about her future. Sometimes the dream is filled with bright sunny days and her laughter, his laughter. Max’s laughter. Sometimes the dream is dark and filled with blood instead. A quick nip in the night. She screws up her strength. She thinks of Flint often. He knows her mind like no other. Not even Charles. Whispers they are secret lovers. Whispers she will take it all for herself. She never paid attention to whispers. Perhaps she should.

She listens.

When they carried away his body she cried. A single tear. It slid down her face without her permission. They were watching her, always watching. Her father’s body was bruised black, his face grave. She would never argue with him, never smile or drink or hold him again. There had been that moment between them…he had stood beside her, believing in her. And how like an insecure child she had nestled up to his breast. It was a moment of weakness. 

She slips.

When they came for her she had not been prepared. Stupid. Foolish little girl, curling up to her daddy. Just for a moment. It had been enough. She thought she could still have it all and the wolves would never come knocking. They had. Now she sits in a dank hold, the swaying of sea beneath her feet. They are taking her away from home and towards the noose, she fears. She hopes the others will not forget about her. She hopes at least two of them watch her still, no matter what. 

She hopes.


End file.
